Always Have
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Miki is warm and dry and vibrant, and no matter how tightly Aya holds her it will not make them part of the same world.


Always have

Disclaimer: don't own

Notes: Day 17 of the 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge by ghiraher on tumblr: noble/peasant au

* * *

The pasture turns into a bog when it rains and Miki herds the horses inside, puts each in the proper stall and combs their tangled manes and soothes them when the thunder rolls. It is here that Aya finds her, giving a carrot to her favorite horse, the black one with brown spots. She's dripping on the hay but it's already musty inside here and it's not like her clothes haven't seen much worse.

"Aya," Miki says—damn, the way her name falls from Miki's lips is gentle, far more pleasant than the rainwater dripping from Aya's hair.

"I'll be up in the loft in ten minutes," Miki says.

Aya takes her cue and climbs up the ladder to the hayloft; it's actually cooler and drier up here (it smells less like horses, too). This has always been their secret meeting spot, ever since they were small children and Aya snuck in to hide from the bigger kids. She's not supposed to be on manor property; none of the peasants are, but the Kanzaki family has always been a bit unconventional (well, as unconventional as nobles get). Miki's brother Tooji tended the stables until he went off to be a knight, leaving her to take over where he left off. They've always made their fortune by supplying horses to the other nobles, and breeding and raising new ones every spring. Miki's parents are often in the pasture, too, assisting with the horse care when her father isn't off on a mission and her mother isn't busy with the finances.

Aya has never ridden a horse in her life. Peasants don't do that sort of thing normally; maybe if they're lucky they get to be an apprentice at some stable and take one for a spin late at night but that's so rare it's barely worth mentioning. Her family can barely afford their house in the village; all their spare money goes toward upkeep on the flower garden that is their lifeline and all their spare time as well. As Aya has grown older she's been able to sneak away less and less to spend time with Miki; as a child she would sit on the pasture railing and watch as Miki and Tooji corral the horses and Tooji hop onto the horses and ride around smoothly, watch Miki's eyes trail them wistfully.

Aya doesn't get horses; they're huge and kind of scary and they smell bad and they shit everywhere and the upkeep on them is expensive as hell and she could list a million reasons more why she hates them—but Miki loves them so they might just not be the worst thing in the world. The look in her eyes when she's training a new foal is fierce and unrelenting and maybe the most goddamn beautiful thing that Aya's ever seen, and when she's watching knights pick out their horses and take them for a ride it's impossible to distract her; she clutches Aya's hand tighter and looks harder and Aya is just a vessel for the excitement to spread (only it doesn't) but that's as much as she's going to get on those days.

Today is not one of those days, though; Miki's head pops up from the ladder and she crawls onto the loft. They've sold off their latest crop of foals and Miki's been sad lately but she's just starting to perk up again, getting used to the smaller flock—it leaves her with less to do and more time to spend up in the loft as the rain beats down and the thunder fades. Time is precious these days; it's hard to ignore the writing on the walls, the time Miki spends at dancing lessons and shopping for fancy dresses to be a proper lady.

Aya clutches Miki's hand in her own and draws her closer; Miki scoots into Aya's lap and smiles up at her and Aya's heart seizes up and she bites her lip. Miki is warm and dry and vibrant, and no matter how tightly Aya holds her it will not make them part of the same world. Miki's destiny is off in court, perhaps to marry some old noble's son in a castle far away and bear him children with wide eyes and smiles that sparkle like stars, and Aya's is to stay and sell flowers in the village—even if it were not, she could never make it as a noblewoman. She'd trip over long skirts and mess up her introductions and get a bit too snarky with the gentlemen and pour goblets of wine over their heads and make a laughingstock of herself so it's no good even fantasizing about it.

"Your hands are shaking," says Miki. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she snaps.

She can feel the hurt on Miki's body and launches into a rant about the neighbor's damn dog and how loud it is and how he can't even afford it and expects Aya's mother to give it table scraps and she does because she's a pushover. It's amazing how she can rant and complain about the trivial things to Miki but when it comes to the big things she can barely approach the subject; it's too daunting and she's too afraid that it will shatter their relationship even as time is running out. And as long as there's still the promise of a second more with Miki she doesn't want to do anything remotely dangerous. She's a coward; if Miki knew what she was thinking she would hate her—after all, she lauded that young knight Onoda for his courage when he came to pick out a new horse the other week and it was so hard to watch them, the bright attentiveness of Miki's eyes on him and Onoda's own cheerfulness. Was he even real? The knife of jealousy had twisted in her gut and she felt like she was going to bleed out; she'd kissed Miki that night until she couldn't breathe any more just to try and forget it, to stop it from clouding their relationship with stupid doubts.

Aya is aware that she's fallen silent again; her hands are playing with the ends of Miki's hair. Miki turns her head and tilts it upward to kiss Aya. If nothing else, they'll always have this, the soft hay around them nd the awkward twist of their bodies and the taste of chocolate on Miki's tongue.


End file.
